The Reckless Mind: Intellectuals in Politics by Mark Lilla (NYRB Books, 2016)
A little dated, a little thought provoking, The Reckless Mind is a series of essays - book reviews, mostly - about thinkers like Derrida, Heidegger, Foucault and more and their sojourns into politics.
It’s a bit of a mixed bag, and one may not always agree with Lilla’s conclusions. Take the essay on Derrida - where the thinker is taken to task for his later, political books Spectres of Marx and The Politics of Friendship - for what Lilla suggests is a confusing muddle of Marxist thought. “As it happens, I attended this seminar,” writes Lilla of the latter, “and like most of the participants I met, had difficulty understanding what Derrida was driving at.” Later, Lilla asks if deconstruction “throws doubt on every political principle,” can it still cast judgement? A simple enough question - and one that brings to mind John Ralston Saul’s criticism of Derrida - and one that he seems to stump Derrida on. (It’s interesting to contrast Lilla’s account of this book with that of Derrida’s biographer Peter Salmon - although that’s a piece for another time).
What I thought was the most interesting essays came right at the beginning: One on the triangle between Heidegger/Arendt/Jaspers,and how their lives and thought intersected over the years. And the one on Carl Schmitt and his take-no-prisoners theory of politics seems especially relevant in today’s political climate. Weirdly, Lila goes after Sartre a few times but doesn’t have an essay that specifically goes after him. Interesting, that. Wonder if there wasn’t a book that gave him an excuse?
All in all, an interesting if flawed (mostly because it’s reviewing some pretty specialized texts) look at some of the 20th century’s thinkers and their engagements with the political world. If you’re familiar with these names, it’s an interesting read, but I wouldn’t suggest it to more general readers.
A Touch of Jen by Beth Morgan (2021, Little, Brown and Company)
A great debut novel, this one starts off in one direction and takes like four or five sharp turns and winds up being something else completely. I thought it was great.
It follows Remy and Alicia, a New York based couple who are both insecure and kind of assholes, and their fixation on Jen, Remy’s old coworker and current social media celebrity. After a random encounter where Remy and Jen catch up, she invites them on a surfing trip up North in the Hamptons, and sets off a weird, dark path.
It’s very much a debut novel and while a lot of clicks, there are moments where the dialogue doesn’t quite click or a motive seems muddled. But throughout Morgan maintains a steady vibe, especially with Remy, that’s part detached hipster and part psychopath- no spoilers but you’ll often find there’s a hint of violence lurking just behind the corner, well before the book takes a final, dark and wild turn.
In all, recommended for people who like monster movies, are interested in social media/influencer culture, and want to keep up with hip new voices. This is Morgan’s first book and I can only imagine where she’ll go from here.
A Dream of a Woman by Casey Plett (2021, Arsenal Pulp Press)
I’ve written about this one before, so I’ll keep this brief: An absolutely powerful collection of stories about people trying to hack in not always great situations, but always treated with kindness and generosity by Plett, who has a voice that’s completely unique. She writes about real people, ones you can imagine running into at the food basics, and even in only a few pages she makes them come alive. It’s a magic trick, it’s estradiol realism. And when she stretches out, like on “Enough Trouble” she paints with broad strokes, capturing scenes of beauty and raw emotion. Nobody writes sex like her; nobody writes a blackout as well, either.
Matterhorn: A Novel of the Vietnam War by Karl Marlantes (2011, Grove Press)
A good, moving account about the Vietnam war, Karl Marlantes novel conveys the horror and sheer waste of the war, and the toll it took on its soldiers. In prose that takes you right into the thick of things - bullets speeding past soldiers, exploding fragmentary grenades, the smell of Agent Orange being sprayed - and makes you wonder, what was this all for?
The battle he writes up - centred on the taking of the fictional Matterhorn base near the Laotian border - doesn’t amount to anything. It isn’t pivotal or dramatic or a key moment in the war. It’s just a bunch of young men fighting other young men over a piece of land that’s abandoned almost as quickly as it’s taken.
And that, not to mention the horror and viciousness of the battles, is what makes this book so powerful - the especially in the wake of the fall of Afghanistan. It’s all for nothing. All the lives, time and waste. As the song goes, War: what is it good for?